


The Wayfinder and the Siren (JohnLock AU)

by Sini333



Category: johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Deep space, Eventual Smut, John is a Wayfinder of the stars, M/M, Sherlock is a Space Siren, Siren, Suicidal John Watson, Torture, Wayfinder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 04:26:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11177001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sini333/pseuds/Sini333
Summary: John Watson is a Wayfinder, fresh off the War of the Skies. He leaves his home planet, hoping to find his death among the stars.Sherlock is a Siren, banished from his kingdom after a dreadful accident.A storm, a chase, a mystery, have these two unlikely companions found a reason to live?





	1. Energy Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Here is another AU!!!! Throughout this one, John is suicidal so just be aware of that before you read....I'll put warnings for the violent chapters in the notes before the chapter as always...Hope you like it!!! enjoy <3

“John, I know you’re pissed, but you can’t just-”

“Mike, I can’t stay.” John finished tying down the last of his supplies, looking up at his friend and offering him a soft smile before standing. “I can’t be around here anymore. Not after this. I can’t stand to see the pity in everyone’s eyes.” He pulled Mike in for a hug, feeling his long-time friend tremble against him.

Mike knew John wasn’t going to be returning.

“I’m sorry Mike. I’ll keep in touch, I promise.”

“John, please don’t do this.”

“I’ve got to go, before the third sun rises. I’ll call when I reach E3.” Mike nodded, stepping back and letting John go. He climbed aboard his small Star Sailor and pushed off the dock, activating his O2 collar and unraveling his sails.

He waved back at his friend as his vessel sailed away, an overwhelming sadness filling his body. He would miss his friend, but this was for the best. John couldn’t live like this anymore, the memories of the war and what had happened still far too fresh to cope with.

He turned and faced the open skies, grinning as he tightened the rope on his sails and allowed the pulsing energy of Deep Space push him farther and faster through the stars.

 

The energy storm hit with almost no warning, knocking his Star Sailor off course and sending him careening through the stars.  He fought against the waves of energy to keep his sails unfurled and intact.

A massive rock floated towards the front of his boat, threatening to crush his tiny vessel.

“Shit!” He cursed, grabbing the rope for his mainsail and swinging around the mast, using the weak gravity caused by the storm to his advantage. He leaped onto the edge of his boat just as it was threatening to capsize, pulling the rope tight and leaning back, turning the boat sharply.

He felt the burning heat of the falling rock brushing against his back as his vessel narrowly evaded it.

He felt the familiar surge of energy in the tips of his ears and looked forward, barely catching sight of the massive energy wave looming over him before it crashed into him. He was knocked from the boat, falling through the stars as the storm absorbed all the gravity in the surrounding skies.

He felt his vision fade to black as his O2 collar flickered into uselessness.

 

 

 

Sherlock had been drifting aimlessly through the stars when the storm hit.

He maneuvered his way effortlessly through the waves of energy, twisting and turning amongst the stars. He winced as his tail brushed against a massive rock that was falling through the storm, a handful of his dark scales rubbing off on the stone.

“Shit!”  A voice came from the other side of the rock, pulling Sherlock’s focus for a moment. No one should be out in this weather, and anyone who is must have a death wish. He pushed himself around the rock, forcing his way through the wavering gravity pockets.

He caught sight of a small Star Sailor barreling towards the rock.

He debated helping, using his song to manipulate the energy and turn the boat, but then a movement on the small vessel caught his eye. The human manning the craft grabbed the mainsail rope and jumped from one end of the boat to the port side, landing on the edge and leaning back, pulling the rope tight and forcibly turning the boat.

It was a stunning sight.

The boat righted and sailed easily on, and Sherlock felt the overwhelming urge to follow.

A familiar surge of energy pricked along his tail and he watched in terror as a massive wave of energy came crashing down on the small boat. The human was thrown from the vessel, dropping through the storm and into empty air.

Sherlock dove through the air, using his song to propel himself faster towards the now-unconscious human. He reached the human and manipulated what little energy was left in the empty air to stop his fall. He wrapped his arms around the unconscious man’s chest and hauled him back towards his vessel.

 

 

He came to with a painful heave of his lungs, coughing and choking on the residual energy his lungs had absorbed during his fall.

The fall. He had fallen from his boat. He should be dead, not alive and choking on excess energy.

He pushed himself up to his elbows, shaking his head and blinking away the fog that clouded his vision.

“Lie back. You had a nasty fall, you shouldn’t be moving right now.” A deep, smooth voice came from the edge of the boat. _Alright, still on the boat then._ He thought as he searched for the source of the voice. He froze completely when he caught sight of the being that was sitting on the edge of the boat.

It was a Siren, a lovely, pale, bored-looking Siren.

“You’re an idiot.”


	2. The Hope

“You’re an idiot.” John scrambled back as far as he could, his head reeling in confusion. There was a Siren, on his vessel, talking to him, calling him an idiot. “Why, in all the galaxies, are you out in such weather? You could have been killed. Would have been if I hadn’t been there.” John’s hand reached up to feel his O2 collar. It was intact and hummed when he touched it. “I had to re-boot your collar. It died when you fell out of the storm.” John stared in disbelief at the Siren, the being was contradicting everything John had ever been taught.

“W-Why- I-I don’t-” The Siren sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, flicking his dark tail in irritation.

“I forgot how stupid humans can be.”

“Oi! No need to be rude!” The Siren looked at him curiously, shifting forwards and smirking lightly. His eyes were almost silver and seemed to hold the entire galaxy within their depths. “I-I just- I have some- some questions.”

“I saved your life, I suppose you’re entitled to a few questions.”

“How can I understand you?” John could tell by the shock on the Siren’s face that he hadn’t expected that question. “I know how you saved me. Saw me falling and caught me, hauling me back to my boat. What I don’t get is how I can understand you. This collar is basic, not equipped with a translation matrix, so I shouldn’t be able to understand you.” The Siren grinned dangerously, shifting closer to John.

“Well, it appears I have stumbled upon the only human in this galaxy with an iota of intelligence.” John blushed, though he was unsure why. Something about the way this creature spoke to him sent chills along his spine. “I studied your language when I was younger, I’m far from fluent, but I can hold my own.”

“Alright, why aren’t you trying to seduce me? That’s how Sirens kill right? Seduce their victims then have them kill themselves for love?”

“You are well versed in my kind’s rituals.”

“You’re evading the question.”

“Fine. I tried, you are immune to my song.” John blinked in shock. A human being immune to a Siren song was a myth, only ever heard of in song and stories. “I sang to you before you woke, when your mind was adrift. You should have woken completely under my spell, yet here we are.” The Siren pushed himself off the deck of the small Star Sailor, hovering above the metal and watching John with glittering eyes. “You, young human, defy all of the logic I have gathered in my years.” John’s breath caught in the back of his throat as the creature swam closer to him, their bodies separated by only a few inches.

“I-I don’t know your name.”

“I don’t know yours either.”

“John.”

“Sherlock.” John fought back a giggle at that. A strange name for a strange creature. The creature hovered above him, holding his gaze almost in challenge. John found himself slowly losing himself in the pale eyes of the Siren.

A deafening wail vibrated the air around the boat.

Massive black tentacles wrapped around the vessel, tipping it dangerously and causing John to slide across the deck.

“John-” Sherlock’s cry was cut short as one of the tentacles wound tightly around his middle, whipping the Siren off the boat and into deep space. The attacking creature released John’s Star Sailor and followed, playing some sort of game as it batted Sherlock through the sky.

John pushed himself to his feet, his instincts kicking back in as he watched the creature kick the Siren through the skies. His people called the massive black thing a Hope, the equivalent of a Kraken from the legends of Old Earth. They were rare and those that did exist were not free, usually enslaved by bounty hunters or leaders of colonies.

John leaped across the boat and forced open one of the crates, pulling out his energy bow and turning it on. It was illegal to kill a Hope, but John could see that Sherlock had been knocked unconscious, and there was no way he could let that beautiful creature die in the arms of a Hope.

He grabbed the mainsail rope, tugging the sail open and pulling the boat into the direction he needed it to go. He knew his technique was risky, leaping from one edge to the other like that, but it was faster and more precise if it was done correctly. And John was known for his precision.

The boat shot through the stars towards the Hope, propelled by disrupted energy waves. John tore off his shirt, the slightly loose fabric catching on the ropes, and tethered himself to the Mast.

When the boat got less than one length away from the creature, John leapt to the very end, his weight pushing the tip of the boat down as he aimed his energy bow. He fired, striking true through the eye of the beast as he pushed off the boat, spinning it around and sending it careening through the skies.

He grabbed Sherlock’s thin frame, pulling the unconscious creature close just before the rope attached to his waist was pulled tight and he was jolted away.

As the now-dead Hope fell away, John caught sight of a massive red mark on its middle.

This Hope had belonged to The Spider.


	3. Marked

After a long while, John managed to haul himself and the unconscious Siren back onto his Star Sailor. He made a bed for Sherlock out of a pile of ropes and blankets, his long frame taking up most of the deck.

He used his Med Scanner to check the Siren for any internal injuries, when he found none, he moved on to repairing the external ones he could find. Once he finished with Sherlock’s wounds, he checked himself for any damage. He found only minor abrasions and bruises.

He pulled out his Star Guide, taking a seat on the end of the boat and hanging one of his feet off the edge, trying to figure out where he was. The last of the three suns had finished setting, and the brighter stars were making themselves known in the inky blackness.

John’s guidebook was old, not like the new digital ones most of his comrades used. His had been passed down through his family tree, hand drawn maps and diagrams, showing just how much humans had discovered throughout the centuries. He gingerly flipped through the pages, unable to resist the urge to read the notes and stories his ancestors had written.

“That book is ancient.” The deep, rough voice of the Siren pulled John from his thoughts. Sherlock had woken and managed to push himself onto his elbows. “I can feel the energies pouring from it’s pages.” John looked back down at the book in his hands, smirking softly at the pages.

“It’s been in my family since humans first started exploring the stars. I got it when my father passed.” Sherlock dragged himself along the deck, wincing in pain as his wounds pulled. “Don’t, you’ll hurt yourself-”

“I’m already hurt John, what more could I do to myself?” Sherlock snapped, pulling himself to sit next to John. “Can I see the book?” John hesitated, pulling the guide tight against his chest before handing it over to the Siren. Sherlock ran his fingers over the cover, gently opening the pages and smiling at the drawings he saw there. The Siren looked back up at John, his eyes glinting with mischief. “This book is amazing.” John grinned proudly, enjoying the expression on Sherlock’s face.

“I remember my father writing in it when I was a child, telling me stories when he was sober enough to do so.” John sighed heavily, the few good memories he had of his childhood weighing on his heart. “I started writing in it when I was in the War, carrying on the tradition as best I could.”

“You were invalided home.” John sent the creature a curious glance, not missing the blush that rose over his cheeks.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Your shoulder.” John rubbed absently at the joint, feeling the poorly healed skin under his fingers. “That scar is less than a year old, and you carry yourself with the confidence of a soldier. Also, your Energy Bow is military issue, but not the latest one.” John smirked, knowing he must look like a gaping fool. “What happened?” At that, John’s heart throbbed painfully and he looked away, the smirk disappearing from his lips.

“An attack, my patrol was killed, I survived.” He replied curtly, standing and grabbing the mainsail rope. He walked to the port side of the boat, tightening and securing the line to the hook sticking out of the floor. “That Hope, the one that attacked us, why did it want you?”

“I am unsure. I was unconscious before I could really see anything. How did you get me away from it?” John blushed, hiding the redness by fussing with a knot.

“Precision, an Energy Bow, and a hell of a lot of luck.” Sherlock chuckled. “That Hope, I’m pretty sure it belonged to a Bounty Hunter called the Spider.” Sherlock’s eyes landed on John, sharp and dangerous.

“Are you certain?”

“For the most part. It had a massive red spider branded onto it’s middle. I’ve only ever seen that mark on Spider’s ships.”

“You’ve fought The Spider before?”

“Not him personally, but my old patrol had to confiscate a few of his ships once. He brands everything with a red spider.”

“Yes, it’s his- how do say- seal. Anything he claims as his own, he brands with that mark.”

“How do you know this?” Sherlock chuckled darkly, wincing as he rose above the deck of the boat, spinning around and humming a soft note. John’s body tingled as the energy around the Siren shifted. John’s eyes widened as the scales that covered his black tail quivered, filling the air with the sound of a quiet snicking as they slid against one another, revealing a horrific burn along the length of his tail.

The burn was in the shape of a spider, a massive scar running clean through the pattern.

Sherlock had been marked by The Spider.


	4. Stories

“Holy shit.” John whispered, pushing himself to his feet and stepping closer to the Siren, his jaw open in shock. He reached for his Med Scanner out of habit, the doctor within him wanting to heal the horrific wound.

It was clearly no more than two years old, though the laceration that ran through it was less than a year old.

“How in the Hell did you survive that? A burn that size should have killed you, or at the very least destroyed your muscles to the point of permanent incapacitation.” He pointed his scanner at the wounds and read the data that popped up on the screen. “Signs of a healed infection in both the burn and the cut. Seriously, you shouldn’t be alive right now.” Sherlock laughed hollowly again, drawing John’s attention back to his face. His jaw was tight and there were tears in his eyes. He looked as though he was in pain.

“Moriarty has incredibly skilled physicians within his web.”

“Moriarty?”

“The Spider. I spent nearly a year as his personal pet before I escaped.”

“Does it still hurt?” Sherlock hesitated before nodding.

“Only when I lift the energy from it. The muscles were severely damaged when I broke the seal, but I can manipulate the energies to trick the damaged tissue into not hurting anymore.” John reached for his Med Kit, digging through until he found his sonic kit.

“I can heal the muscles in the cut, but I would have to re-open it-”

“No!” The harshness in Sherlock’s tone shocked John, and he looked up, instantly reading the distress in the Siren’s eyes. “If you heal the cut the seal will be intact. If the seal is intact, Moriarty can find me.” The Siren sighed, wincing as he lowered himself to the deck. “If Moriarty finds me-” He ran his finger through his hair, tugging harshly.

“He’ll kill you?” Sherlock shook his head, leaning back and resting against the edge of the boat, looking incredibly tired.

“No. He will string me up and take me apart, piece by piece, until all that is left is my song.” John set his scanner and kit down and moved to sit next to Sherlock, fighting his instincts to heal the wounds. “That’s why he wanted me; for my song. I have spent many years honing my song, learning how to manipulate energies to change things. The song of a Siren can be used for far more than just manipulating the impulses of creatures, though most people aren’t aware of that fact. Moriarty knew, and he found out that I had been experimenting.”

“He wanted to use your song to aid his trafficking ring.”

“That’s right. He made me hide his ships as they passed checkpoints and Rangers. He had me disguise his men so they wouldn’t be recognized. He- he had me manipulate the people he wanted dead so they would kill themselves. He had me change the memories of the people his men would assault so no one could ID his men.” John’s head was spinning, it was a clever idea, but the damage that had been done to Sherlock’s body was beyond horrific.

“How does the seal lead him to you? It’s just a burn, right?”

“It’s a psychic link, he’s a Seer. The seal acts as a connection. As long as the seal is whole he can connect to it.”

“Break the seal, break the link.” Sherlock nodded, tracing the burn with one of his long, pale fingers. “What if I heal the burn? I don’t have the equipment on me, but if we can get to a Med Bay I could use my clearance to gain access to it.”

“It can’t be healed. He had at least one of every type of Med Kit available. I tried healing it before I escaped, it just reappeared.”

“He must have tainted the tissues somehow. That would explain the infections my Scanner picked up. It labels anything foreign in the tissues as an infection, especially if it can’t identify what it is.” John reached for one of the crates and pried it open, pulling out his tablet and typing in some data.

“What are you searching for?”

“According to this, if we can identify what the scanner has identified as an infection, we can use sonic technology to forcefully pull it from the tissues and heal the wounds.” John grinned at the Siren, tossing his tablet aside and turning to face the creature. “We can repair the damage Sherlock, I can free you from the link.” The Siren looked uncertain, chewing on his bottom lip and running a hand over his tail.

“Why?” John blinked, unable to comprehend why Sherlock was hesitating. “I deserve to suffer for the things I did John. I don’t deserve to be healed.” John shifted so he was kneeling and shuffled closer to the Siren, taking the creature’s face in his hands and meeting his eyes.

“No one deserves this Sherlock. You didn’t do anything wrong. He tortured you, forced you to do those things. You had no choice, and forcing yourself to suffer won’t make the regret go away.” Sherlock’s eyes filled with confusion and he furrowed his brow.

“I never mentioned the torture.” He whispered, his voice soft and timid. John smiled sadly and sat back on his heels, grabbing his Med Bag and pulling out the set of ID tags he kept there and handing them to the siren. Sherlock read the tags, looking back at John with understanding and pain in his eyes.

“You can recognize the symptoms of a torture victim when you’re one yourself.” John’s voice was unsteady and he stared at his trembling hands, fighting the wave of memories that threatened to assault him. “I was out on patrol when I got grabbed by a pair of rebels. They tossed me in a P.O.W. camp and let their men play.”

“How long?”

“Eighteen days. My company tracked me down and got me out. We were ambushed on the way out. They didn’t walk away, I did. Took me months to recover then when I did, all I could see in my friend’s eyes was pity and fear.” John looked up and met Sherlock’s eyes, blinking away the tears and taking a steadying breath.

“That’s why you’re out here.”

“Yep. There was nothing left for me back there, so I left.” Sherlock was quiet for a long while, staring at John with an intensity that left him squirming.

“This is a suicide mission.” It was a simple statement, but it made John’s chest tighten. He nodded, wiping his eyes and huffing a laugh.

“Haven’t heard it said out loud before. Kind of makes it real.” John pushed to his feet, untangling the mainsail line and quickly securing the items he had pulled out of his crates. He turned back to Sherlock, a mischievous grin on his lips. “I’ve got a buddy back on E2 that works in an industrial level chemistry lab. If anyone can figure out what is tainting your burns, Mikey Stamford can.”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because you saved me, and anything that will help fuck with the Spider’s operations sounds like fun to me.”

“It’s going to be dangerous.”

“I’m on a suicide mission, remember? I’m looking for danger.” John winked, turning to face the far end of the ship and backing up a few steps.

He shot Sherlock a dangerous grin before leaping to the end of the ship, pulling the sail tight and making the boat do a hard turn. He heard Sherlock’s yelp of shock and laughed, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“Hang on to your tail Gorgeous.”

The boat surged forwards, carrying John and Sherlock back towards the Siren’s last hope.


	5. Mikey

Sherlock watched intently as John maneuvered the ship through the stars, measuring distances with his hand and deftly avoiding any meteors or salvage that threatened to crash his vessel.

“Who taught you to sail?” Sherlock asked one night as John measured the sky.

“My Grandfather. He raised me and my sister after my Dad died. He had retired long before they started teaching the automatic method, so I learned the manual way.”

“What is the difference?” John grinned and adjusted the sail slightly before securing the rope. He headed to the back of the boat and pulled out a bundle of wires and chords.

“Automatic basically means that all you do is move a leaver to show where you want to go. Manual is what I do; using brute force to turn the ship. It’s more dangerous and a little harder, as most of it is strictly guessing, but if you know what you’re doing, it’s far more accurate.” John tossed the wires back to the crate he pulled them from and smirked dangerously at Sherlock, winking at the Siren. “It’s also more fun.” Sherlock grinned back at him, pushing off the deck and swimming a loop around the boat.

As they sailed, the Siren asked questions about sailing and how John navigated the stars.

John loved the curiosity of the creature, and gladly answered his questions. He found he quite enjoyed talking to Sherlock, his mind was fascinating and watching him swim amongst the stars was breathtaking.

When they were a few hours outside of E2, John pulled the Star Sailor to a stop, and started rooting through his bags.

“What are you looking for?”

“My Guest Collar. You’ll need it when we dock.”

“Why will I need it?”

“E2 is a Military town. They require all guests to have a Collar so they know who you came with. Just in case there is an issue.” He found the Collar and shuffled back to Sherlock. “It will sting a bit. It takes a sample of your blood for identification purposes. It also takes some of mine.” He ran his finger over the inside of the Collar, wincing as the needle pricked his finger. He entered the appropriate data and set it to Guest.

He knelt in front of Sherlock and wrapped the Collar around his neck. He fought with the buckle for a moment to get it to latch, noticing when Sherlock winced by the sound of his hiss in his ear.

He was suddenly very aware of how close he was to the Siren.

He blushed and pulled away, pressing the button at the front of the Collar to allow it to tighten and activate. It beeped and flashed, signifying that it was active. John’s own Collar beeped and pricked his neck again, ensuring the blood matched what was in Sherlock’s Collar.

“There, good to go.” He grabbed his main bag and pulled out his Video Cell and dialed Mike Stamford. The call connected and Mike’s face appeared before them.

“John? You’re okay! Thank the stars! I thought you got caught in that storm a couple nights ago. I was sure you were dead. Why the Hell didn’t you call when you reached E3? Who is that?” John laughed and pointed the camera at Sherlock.

“This is Sherlock. I was hit by that storm, Sherlock saved me.”

“You were hit? You didn’t call? I would have come-”

“Mikey, calm down. I’m fine, Sherlock was there. He dragged my ass out of the storm. Listen, I need a favor.”

“Sure, anything Mate.”

“I need you to get me into your Chem lab. I have some tissues I need you to sample and we need some heavy-duty scanners.” Mike seemed to hesitate, not that John blamed him; smuggling someone into a Chem lab like that was not exactly approved of. “If you would rather, I can give you samples of the tissues. I just need you to identify what is tainting the samples.”

“Your scanner couldn’t identify it?”

“No. It just shows up as an infection.”

“What are the symptoms? I’m assuming it’s living tissue?”

“Yeah. Whatever is tainting the tissues is keeping scarred tissues from healing. When exposed to intense Sonic technology the tissues heal temporarily, then return to their original state of necrosis.” Mike looked away from his screen, the sounds of keys clicking filling the silence.

“Nothing is showing up on my end. Must not be in the systems. Send me samples of the tissues and I’ll analyze it for you.”

“Actually, we’re about three hours out. We can meet up for dinner and you can collect the samples in person.” John could see the glee in his friend’s face and laughed.

“That sounds great! Send me a message when you reach the gates, we can go to the diner off the compound.”

“Sounds good Mikey, I owe you big time Bud.”

“Take me out and show me a good time, like you did back on S13 and we’ll call it even.” Mike winked and laughed as John blushed. “Alright Mate, see you soon.” John signed off and tucked his Video Cell back into his bag.

“What did he mean by; ‘show me a good time?’” Sherlock asked, speaking for the first time in a while. John blushed furiously, busying himself with organizing his kits. “I am not familiar with this phrase.”

“It uh- it means a date. Mikey and I served together, went on leave to S13 a few times. He was feeling down, I took him out, made sure he felt better by the end of leave.” John tried to hide his face from Sherlock, hoping the Siren wouldn’t figure out what he meant by that. There was a long silence and John felt as though he had successfully evaded any questions.

“You and he were lovers.” John sighed and hung his head. He really didn’t want to talk about this.

“No. We shagged a few times, but there was no feelings or commitment. It was the army, anything that happened between soldiers was nothing more than urge fulfillment. Don’t ask, don’t tell.” He shrugged, turning back to his new companion. “We’re going to have some issues getting you through the gates.”

“Why?”

“That tail of yours for one. Siren’s are considered dangerous to most people. They might put up a fight if they see your tail.”

“I can use my song to hide myself, but you will have to collect the samples beforehand.” John ran his eyes over Sherlock’s body, noting the way the creature squirmed and blushed. He smirked as an idea crossed his mind.

“Ever wanted to know what it’s like to walk Gorgeous?”


	6. E2

Three hours later, John Watson and a very human looking Sherlock were being pushed through the gates of E2.

Watching Sherlock change from Siren to Human was breathtaking. His song was stunning and watching the energies dance and change around him sent a thrill along John’s spine.

Sherlock as a Siren was beautiful, but Sherlock as a Human was stunning.

John felt the confused stares of the guards as he introduced Sherlock as his companion. He knew they were wondering why would a man as gorgeous as Sherlock be with someone as plain as John.

He pulled out his Cell and sent Mike a message, letting him know they had arrived. He pulled his Star Sailor into the dock and paid the fee before leading Sherlock through the familiar streets. He could feel the stares of people recognizing him as they walked, but no one approached them.

They met Mike at the diner outside the main Compound, John instantly recognizing the sound of his friend’s laughter as they neared.

“Hey Mikey!” John called, waving at the shorter man. He laughed as Mike all but ran to them, colliding with John and nearly knocking him over with the force of his hug. “It’s good to see you too.” He yelped as Mike pinched his side harshly, flinching away and rubbing at the bruising skin. “Oi! What was that for?”

“For leaving me like that.” John felt his heart go out to his friend and he took the other man’s face in his hands, smiling softly at the tear-filled eyes. “I-I didn’t want to think that you were-”

“I know Mike, and I’m sorry.”

“You should have told me. I could have-”

“There wasn’t anything you could have done Mikey. This isn’t something a one-off will fix.” Mike breathed a heavy sigh and nodded.

“So you aren’t-” John’s heart hurt when he saw the hope leaving his friend’s eyes as he shook his head. Nothing had changed, John wasn’t staying on E2, and after he finished helping Sherlock there would be nothing stopping him from sailing into the next storm. He sighed and gently patted Mike’s cheek before turning to Sherlock, waving his companion over.

“Mike, this is Sherlock. He saved my ass from that storm.” Sherlock nodded curtly at Mike, his eyes scanning John’s friend and his jaw clenching. If John didn’t know any better, he would say the Siren was jealous of Mikey. “Sherlock, this is Mike. We were on the same Med Unit in the War.” Mike stepped forward and pulled Sherlock in for a hug, whispering something in the stunned Siren’s ear before pulling away.

“Well, I’m starving. Let’s go eat, and we can discuss that tissue you wanted me to sample.” Mike draped an arm over John’s shoulders and hooked his other arm around Sherlock’s elbow and led them into the Diner.

 

Dinner was unbearable for Sherlock. He hated the taste of human food, and watching John and Mike together made his stomach tighten into knots.

Mike obviously hadn’t gotten the ‘No Emotions’ memo, as he spent the entire night flirting with, and clinging to John. It was obvious John had an emotional connection with the other man, as he flirted back.

Sherlock felt horrifically out of place with the pair, sitting quietly and picking at his food. Even when John started talking about the seal, Sherlock stayed quiet, content to wallow in his self-pity.

“I’ll be back, nature calls.” John said with a wink before sliding out of the booth. Sherlock watched him walk away, loathing him for leaving him alone with the touchy Mike.

“So, you’re pretty quiet.” Mike grinned at Sherlock, leaning across the table. “Not exactly John’s type, he does tend to go for people that are a little less-” He waved his hands at Sherlock, a gesture the Siren didn’t understand.

“A little less, what?”

“Ah! So he does speak!” Mike laughed, causing Sherlock’s cheeks to warm. He would never get used to how easily the human body reacted to things. “You know, less outright gorgeous.” Sherlock’s cheeks burned brighter and he glared at the half-empty plate before him, unsure as to what to say.

“What type of person does John, as you say; ‘usually go for then?’” Sherlock’s curiosity won out over the discomfort of conversing with Mike.

“Let’s just say, he knows when he is out of his league.” Mike winked and took a swig of his drink, leaving Sherlock more confused than before.

“You think I am out of his league?”

“Well yeah, I mean you’re gorgeous, and John is- well, John.”

“You don’t find John attractive?”

“No, I’m not saying that. I mean he’s hot, but in a more, I don’t know how to say it-”

“Human.”

“Yeah! That’s it! John is more classically attractive while you look like some kind of mythical creature.” Sherlock glared at his food again, pushing it around with his fork some more. “Hey, you know my opinion doesn’t matter, right?”

“I’m sure John would disagree.” Sherlock hadn’t meant to sound bitter, but he heard the harsh edge to his words and saw the way Mike’s expression changed. “My apologies, I’m just tired from the trip.”

“I’m back.” Sherlock jumped when he felt a firm hand squeeze his shoulder, comforted slightly at the sound of John’s voice. “How many times has Mikey asked you out since I left?” John took his place beside Mike once again, smiling at Sherlock.

“Come now John, like Sherlock would even consider dating a slag like me.” Mike winked at Sherlock and giggled when Sherlock blushed. “I’ve got to be getting back to the lab. Let’s go gather your samples eh?”

 

They returned to John’s vessel and Sherlock used his song to hide them.

“He hums?” Mike asked, laughter in his voice.

“Not exactly.” John said, turning to face Sherlock. “Ready?”

“You will need to cover his ears.” John nodded and turned to his bag, pulling out his earplugs and handing them to Mike.

“What-”

“Just, trust me, alright? Leave these in until I say, no matter what, okay?” Mike looked uncertain, but followed his instructions.

Sherlock heaved a deep breath and hummed a low note, releasing the energies from their manipulated form.

It didn’t take as long to return to his true form, but it hurt worse. His tail ached and the seal burned through the muscles.

“Holy shit!” Sherlock could hear the fear in Mike’s voice as he changed. “John! He’s a-”

“I know Mike.” Sherlock lowered himself so he was sitting on the deck, motioning to John to take the earplugs out of his friend’s ears.

“Do you have any idea how fucking dangerous this is? If you get caught with him-”

“I know, that’s why we have to be quiet and get the samples quickly. They’ll kick us off E2 if they see him.”

“They’ll do worse than that Mate. They’ll kill you, and ship him back to the Siren Palace.” That wasn’t good, Sherlock tried to hide the concern that made his chest tighten. He couldn’t let anything happen to John.

“Can we please discuss this later?” The pain was excruciating and he knew it was only going to get worse when Mike took his sample. Mike nodded and knelt before Sherlock, pulling out a small Med Kit and inspecting the wound. “Take from the burn, not the cut.” Mike looked at Sherlock, concern and fear in his eyes. There was no doubt he recognized the seal.

It hurt badly when Mike took his scalpel and cut a chunk of tissue from the burn, but Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut and fought the instinct to squirm. Within seconds, the burn replaced the missing tissue and the sharp stinging was gone, returning to the dull ache of injured muscles.

“I’ll message you when the sample finishes processing.” Mike stated before he left, clapping John and Sherlock on the back before hurrying off to the lab.

“Well, I guess we have a few hours to kill. Why don’t you turn back to human and I’ll show you around a bit?” Sherlock shrugged, once again starting his song and shifting back into human form.

John led him through the town, chattering on about some of his adventures from his army days. Sherlock watched John talk, not really hearing anything he was saying. He could see why Mike still harboured feelings for the man.

John’s smile was intoxicating and his voice was calming. He was attractive by human standards, and he carried himself with a confidence that made him look taller than he was.

“Mike still has feelings for you.” Sherlock kicked himself internally. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. John blushed and sighed, resting his elbows on the railing of the bridge they were crossing.

“I know.” He said, staring out into the empty space beneath the bridge.

“You also have feelings for him?” Sherlock’s stomach was in knots when he saw the emotion in John’s eyes at the mention of Mike.

“Not like that. Mikey and I, we went through a lot together. He was there when I was shot, followed me home when I was discharged. He’s my best friend, and the only one that didn’t treat me different after I got back.”

“You do feel for him though?”

“I feel bad. He knows why I left and I think he blames himself. He tried so hard to help me, and knowing that he can’t hurts him. I don’t want to hurt Mikey, I wanted to be the right one for him, I tried. But I’m too broken and I didn’t want him to be the one that found me when it happened.” John wiped his eyes and Sherlock caught sight of the tear that caught on his finger. “I couldn’t hurt him like that.” They stood in silence for a while, Sherlock thinking over what John had said.

John’s phone pinged, breaking the stillness between them.

“Looks like Mikey’s done. Let’s head back to the compound.” John started to walk away, and Sherlock was gripped with the need to touch him.

He grabbed John’s elbow and pulled him back, ignoring his protests.

“Sherlock! What-” John’s words were cut short by the soft press of Sherlock’s lips against his own.


	7. He's Dangerous

Sherlock was kissing him.

Before John had the chance to react, Sherlock had stepped back, leaving John reeling and breathless. John rubbed his hands over his face, trying to control his breathing. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He couldn’t start anything with Sherlock, not when he only had a couple of weeks left.

“J-John-” Sherlock sounded scared and uncertain. John took a steadying breath and turned, pulling out his cell and checking the time.

“Come on, we have to meet Mikey.”

“John I-”

“Please don’t Sherlock. I-I can’t-”

“You’re still planning on killing yourself.” John’s eyes filled with tears and he sighed, this is why he left Mikey.

“Sherlock, please. I can’t- I won’t do that to you-”

“Then don’t.” Sherlock’s voice was firm and it made John’s heart ache. “You have a choice John, you don’t have to-”

“What am I supposed to do Sherlock? I can’t get the memories out of my head. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is the faces of my crew as they died. They died to save me, Sherlock, every single one of them.” John had turned to face Sherlock, barely fighting back the tears. “I should have died that day. It should have been me.” Sherlock frowned, glaring at the ground. John sniffled and wiped his eyes. “Let’s go. Mikey’s waiting.” He turned and stalked away, not waiting for Sherlock’s response.

 

 

Sherlock watched John walk away, wishing he knew how to save his friend. He followed a fair distance behind John, trying to figure out the right words. There were none.

When they reached the compound, Sherlock caught sight of Mike, hovering by the gates. He looked nervous. Something was wrong.

“Hey Mikey, what did you-”

“You guys need to get out of here, now.” Sherlock’s blood ran cold at the fear he could see in the shorter man’s eyes. John looked confused, stepping closer to his friend and glancing back at Sherlock.

“Mike, I don’t under-”

“There is no time. Everything you need to know about the tissues is on this data stick, but you need to get as far away from E2 as you can.” Mike shoved a small object into John’s hand before pulling him in for a hug. “Be careful. I’ve explained everything on the Data Stick. Just go, now.” He pulled back slightly and pressed a gentle kiss to John’s lips before pushing him away.

“Mikey, I-”

“It’s not safe John. Take Sherlock and run.” With that, Mike turned and hurried back into the compound. John turned and sent a scared look back at Sherlock before pushing past him, heading for the docks.

 

They left E2 as quickly as they could, not a word shared between them.

When they were a few hours away from the planet, John pulled out his tablet and attached the Data Stick to it. An image of Mikey appeared on the screen, he looked terrified.

“Listen John, I’ve downloaded the data on the tissues like you asked, but there is a problem. Your friend’s DNA was in the system. He has three different bounties on his head. His name is Sherlock Holmes and he is the Siren prince. The one that killed all those people a few years back.” Sherlock’s chest tightened and he stumbled back against the boat.

“Sherlock, what-”

“He’s dangerous, John. He killed thirty people because he was bored, then he ran off to join the Spider’s forces to spite his older brother. His brother, the army, and the Spider all want him dead.” John’s eyes met Sherlock’s and the Siren could see the pain and confusion there. “I know you care about him John, that’s why I told you to get the hell out.” John turned his eyes back to the tablet, his brow furrowing. “Oh, don’t give me that look Watson. I can see how you look at that man, or whatever he is. You care about him. I can only hope he is dangerous enough for you.” The video flickered off and the screen filled with data, but Sherlock could see that John wasn’t watching.

“What did he mean, Sherlock.”

“I-I don’t-”

“Did you kill those people?”

“N-No- I-I didn’t-”

“Don’t lie to me-”

“It was an accident!” Sherlock snapped, gripping his hair tightly and tugging, fighting against the images that pulled themselves from the dark corners of his mind. “It was an accident, they weren’t supposed to be there. I was practicing my song, trying to move a meteor by manipulating the energies. A Transfer Ship went off course and got too close. The driver was- he heard-” Sherlock’s voice cracked in a sob and he tucked his knees against his chest, still tugging at his hair. “Thirty people were killed when he drove that Ship into the meteor. I was banished from my home, sent to survive among the stars.” Tears fell from Sherlock’s eyes as the faces of the people he had killed flashed through his mind.

“Christ-”

“I know their names. They play through my head as I try to sleep. That was how the Spider kept me in his charge for so long. He used my pain to torture me. I didn’t join him to spite my brother, he found me, weak and trying to cut my song out of my throat.” Sherlock’s nails dug into the skin of his arm, trying to remind himself of something other than the pain in his heart. “He told me he could help me, that he could take my song from me.”

“Sherlock-” A deafening siren sounded, causing John to crumble in pain. Sherlock pushed off the deck, grabbing his friend and covering his ears. The sound was causing the energies around their vessel to vibrate.

John was screaming in his arms as the sound made him claw at his ears, trying to make it stop.

Sherlock looked around desperately, catching sight of something that made his blood run cold and his stomach tighten.

A massive ship, built to resemble the Pirate ships of old was looming in the distance, heading straight for them.

A massive spider wrapped itself around the hull of the boat.

He knew this boat.

The Spider had found him.


	8. The Spider

“John! John please listen to me!” Sherlock fought with the screaming man, trying to pull him out of whatever spell the Spider’s ship had him under. “John please! I can’t sail this ship, you need to listen to me!” The wail of The Spider’s ship increased, and John screamed louder, his nails digging bloody furrows into his skin.

“Sherlock!” The haunting voice of The Spider filled Sherlock’s head, splitting his mind painfully. His legs burned where the mark should have been, and he pulled at John’s wrists.

“John! Please! Listen to my voice!”

“He can’t hear you. I’m going to make him tear his pretty little brains out through his ears.”

“John!”

“You shouldn’t have run Sherlock. I’m going to tear you apart, after you watch your little human pet tear himself apart that is.” John’s voice was breaking and Sherlock could see that his friend didn’t have too much longer.

He clenched his jaw and pulled out John’s Video Caller, dialling Mike and praying the other man would answer.

“John?” Mike’s face appeared before Sherlock, tight with concern. “What the hell? Where’s John?”

“Mike, I need your help.”

“What happened? Where’s John?”

“He is going to die if I don’t get us out of here. Please Mike, I know you don’t trust me, but John is on the verge of clawing his brains out.” Sherlock pointed the camera to John, showing Mike the damage the other man was doing to himself. “Please Mike, he is going to kill himself.”

“What do you need?”

“How do I switch the boat to automatic?”

“You can’t, not without the tools.”

“Then how do I sail?”

“I don’t know how to sail like John does-”

“Damn it Mike!”

“But you can activate the exterior shield.” Sherlock tossed the Video Caller back to the deck, trying once again to stop John’s fingers from tearing the skin.

The Spider’s ship was looming closer.

“How?”

“Grab John’s Tablet and turn it on.” Sherlock followed the instructions, ignoring the blood that coated his hands and smudged over the Tablet screen. “I’m going to hack into his mainframe and override the system. Once the shield is up it should block out whatever is doing that to John. He can help you from there.” Sherlock nodded and returned to trying to stop John. His head started aching again as The Spider’s voice started humming in his ear.

“It’s too late!” The voice echoed through his mind, his eyes filling with tears at the pain.

“Sherlock! There should be a command on the tablet, hit confirm. Now!” Sherlock scrambled to obey, blinking through the tears as his skull felt as though it was being shredded.

Suddenly, the air was blissfully silent.

Sherlock blinked rapidly, the pain in his head fading.

“Sherlock? Talk to me man, did it work?” Mike’s voice filled the silence, pulling Sherlock from the fog of pain.

“Yes, yes, it worked.” Sherlock pulled John close, tugging his now-still hands from his face. “John’s injured but alive.”

“Get him out of there. I’ll try to slow The Spider down, just keep John alive.”

“Thank you, Mike.” John’s friend nodded, his image blinking from sight.

“S-Sher-Sherlock-” The Siren breathed a sigh of relief and pulled John close, taking care not to touch the open wounds on his scalp. “W-What the-”

“I will explain everything later, but first I need you to tell me how to sail this damned ship.” John blinked, blood flowing steadily into his eyes. “John, please. We are running out of time-”

“Shit!” John suddenly leapt to his feet, pushing Sherlock aside and grabbing the rope. He swung around pulled the sail tight, jumping to the end of the boat and propelling the ship forward. “Sherlock, pull that tarp off the side and hit the green button.” Sherlock scrambled to obey, tugging at the tarp, revealing a panel covered with buttons.

“What the hell-”

“Questions later! Green button, now!” Sherlock slammed his fist down onto the only green button, yelping in shock as the small Star Sailor shot forward. “Hang on Gorgeous!” John leapt to the side of the boat and spun it, sending the ship careening past The Spider’s ship, shooting away into the empty space.

The Spider had a fast ship, but John’s little vessel was smaller and quickly outran the massive boat.

 

John set the sail and secured the line before slumping against the side of the boat. The blood had stopped flowing a while back, but the wounds were still open.

“I-I need to fix your head-”

“Grab my Med Kit. There is a Sonic Set in there. I can repair the damage with it.” John’s voice was curt and he avoided Sherlock’s gaze.

“You’re angry.” John met his eyes, and Sherlock could see the pain and anger there.

“Bloody genius, you are.” Sherlock found John’s Kit and slid it over to him, keeping his distance. He sat against the far side of the boat and watched as John struggled with the Sonic Kit. His finger slipped, the skin tearing on an exposed scalpel. Sherlock hurried to his side as John cursed, covering his hand and wincing.

Sherlock grabbed John’s hand and looked at the wound, picking up the Sonic Scanner.

“What setting?”

“I don’t need your help-”

“What setting, John?” John sighed, not meeting Sherlock’s eyes.

“Eighty-six for minor wounds, one-twenty-two for anything worse.” Sherlock nodded and set about repairing the damage.

They were silent aside from the occasional hiss of pain from John as the muscles repaired themselves.

“How did he do that?” John eventually asked, his voice soft and wavering. He still wouldn’t make eye contact, and Sherlock suddenly understood what was wrong.

“It’s his twisted version of a Siren Song. Forces your mind to relive every terrible memory you have all at once, then penetrates your brain with a note that makes your mind devour itself.” John pulled his knees tight against his chest and bit down on his knuckles, blinking rapidly. Sherlock sat back on his heels, wanting to hold the troubled man, but sensing contact was unwanted. “What did he make you see?” John was silent for a while, chewing on his knuckles absently.

“My Father.” John eventually whispered, his voice cracking and tears falling from his eyes. “He uh, he beat my mother to death when I was seventeen. Went after my little sister next.” John sniffled, wiping his eyes.

“He was your first kill.” John nodded, running his hand through his hair and sighing. “It wasn’t your fault John.”

“No? It was my hands that caved his skull in. My mistake that made all those innocent soldiers lose their lives. I was the one that pulled the trigger against every single creature that I was told to, no questions asked. I killed those people, Sherlock. Their blood is on my hands-”

“You were defending your sister against a violent man. You were fighting for your people. You are not a bad man, John.”

“How would you know! You’ve known me for less than a month, Sherlock-”

“I am completely vulnerable, lost, and have no idea of human customs and I kissed you. I left myself open for you to take your pleasure from me and you walked away. You left Mikey because you wanted to die and didn’t want to hurt him. You killed a man to save your baby sister. You, John Watson, are not a bad man.” John watched Sherlock for a moment, something changing in his eyes.

Sherlock gasped as John reached for him, dragging him close and gripping the back of his neck tightly.

“Neither are you, Sherlock Holmes.” 


	9. Mutual Friends

John eventually calmed down enough to read the tablet. Sherlock watched in fascination as John’s eyes quickly read and analyzed the data.

“Well shit.” John grumbled after a few minutes of reading. He looked up and caught Sherlock’s eyes. “Your burn is tainted with the blood of one James Moriarty.” Sherlock felt a wave of nausea grip his stomach at the thought of having Moriarty’s blood under his skin.

“That explains how he is able to see me.” John nodded before reaching for his Cell, dialing a different number than Mike’s. A new face popped up on the screen, one Sherlock wished he hadn’t seen.

“Watson? Is that you?”

“Hey Greg!”

“Holy shit Mate! How long’s it been? Five years?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“How’ve you been? I heard you got discharged. We sure miss you out on the field, you and your crazy ass sailing technique.” John laughed awkwardly, Sherlock could see the blush on his cheeks and would have thought it were cute if he weren’t so focused on trying to breathe right now.

“Yeah, so listen Mate, you still out a E6? I need access to a Med Bay to help a friend.”

“Nah, I got transferred a while back. I’m working on the Intergalactic Peace Council now.”

“They shoved you behind a desk?” Greg laughed, and Sherlock flinched. He remembered that voice, and it recalled some unpleasant memories from the time before his was exiled.

“Nope, I’m head of a security force now. Some posh Prince who pissed of the wrong people. Not that I’m surprised, this guy is a right ass. Hot as Hell though.” Sherlock fought back a chill at the memory of his brother and the Head of Security flirting aggressively. “I can still get you onto E6’s Med Bay from here though. Why do you need it?”

“Buddy of mine has a scar that is tainted and I’m trying to help him get rid of it.” John spun the camera to face Sherlock, clearly missing the terror on the Siren’s face. Sherlock had yet to change back to his Siren form, but he saw the recognition cross the other man’s face instantly. “This is-”

“Jesus fucking Christ! Sherlock Holmes where the Hell have you been?” Sherlock winced and avoided John’s shocked eyes.

“Hello Gavin. Long time.” He heard Greg’s disbelieving laugh and pulled his knees up to his chest.

“Wait, you have legs now? How do you know John?”

“He saved my arse from a storm a while back. How do you know Sherlock?”

“I run his brother’s security force.” John looked shocked, and Sherlock just shrugged. “Small universe eh?” Gavin laughed, his relaxed tone helping Sherlock calm down slightly. “So it’s true then? You got nabbed by The Spider?” Sherlock nodded. “Shit Mate, he marked you?” Sherlock nodded again, blinking away tears. John looked as lost as before, though he seemed to be more concerned with the fact that Sherlock was fighting tears than anything.

“That’s why we need into E6’s Med Bay. So I can remove whatever is tainting the tissues and heal the burn. Can you get us in?”

“Why don’t you guys just come here? I’m sure Mycroft will help-”

“My brother banished me, or have you forgotten that?” Sherlock snapped, sending the man a cold glare through the camera. “I would be shocked if you did, you were, after all, the one that flogged me and escorted me from his planet.” There was silence from the other end for a long while before John’s tablet dinged.

“I sent a notice that you would be arriving at E6 to complete some tasks for me and would require full access to any equipment you desire.” Greg’s voice was soft and full of something Sherlock had a tough time placing. “You shouldn’t have any issues and if you do, just have them call me.”

“Thanks Greg.” John’s voice was sincere and he grinned at Sherlock, clearly excited that they had a new plan. “I owe you one.”

“No problem Mate.” John went to end the call but hesitated when Greg spoke again. “And Sherlock, you need to know that I fought for you to stay. Mycroft didn’t know what else to do, and as soon as he heard that The Spider got you, he retracted the exile and sent forces out looking for you. Come home, and he will welcome you with open arms.” The video cut off before Sherlock could respond.

They sat in silence for a while, not really knowing what to say.

“How far off is E6?” Sherlock eventually asked, still not meeting John’s eyes.

“If I’ve guessed our location correctly, I’d say about eight days.” Sherlock nodded and listened as John stood, walking to the end of the boat and preparing to set sail again.

They set off, no more words shared between them.

 

It was several hours before John heard Sherlock’s voice again. Something about talking to Greg had really unnerved the Siren, and John had thought it best to just let him brood.

“I’m bored.” John rolled his eyes, it wasn’t the first time the Siren had made that announcement since they started travelling together. Usually John could shut him up with a story, or by answering his questions, but he was out of stories and Sherlock didn’t seem to have any questions.

“You could always change back to your tail and go for a swim, or whatever it is you do.” Sherlock was quiet for a long while, looking like he was thinking. John turned his attention back to the task at hand, easily manoeuvering the ship around a small meteor.

“Stop the boat.” There was no urgency to the demand, but John obeyed anyway, closing the sail and letting the ship drift to a stop. Sherlock hummed a few notes and John watched as the energies formed a thin rope around the mast, anchoring the vessel to a star.

“What’s wrong?” Sherlock ignored him and grabbed his Star Guide, handing it to John with a serious expression on his beautiful features.

“Pick your favorite page. Your favorite image your ancestors drew.” John’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he followed his friend’s demand, flipping to his favorite page in the book. He handed the open book back to Sherlock, still feeling slightly lost. “Why did you choose this one?”

“My Great-Great Grandfather drew this one. It’s the spot where he met his wife. Claimed it was the most romantic spot in the universe, and that meeting her, amongst those stars, had given him a reason to live. I used to look at it when I was struggling as a teen, and while in the army.” He smiled timidly and shrugged, fighting the blush that rose at Sherlock’s perplexed gaze. “Sentiment, I guess.” Sherlock smiled and placed the book in front of him, kneeling before it and furrowing his brow in concentration.

His song started as a low, wavering note, thrumming through the air and sending a chill along John’s spine. The song continued, slowing working its way up the scales.

As the Siren sang, the images on the pages lifted off, swirling around the pair to engulf them in a galaxy from a thousand suns past.

It was stunning. John looked around himself, breathless and unable to contain his awe-struck grin. He laughed, pushing to his feet and spinning, taking in the new galaxy Sherlock had created for him.

Sherlock watched his friend as he spun, the lights from his imaginary galaxy glittering in his dark eyes. There was a child-like joy on his face and it made Sherlock’s heart light. He wanted to give John that joy again, he wanted to give John a reason to live.

John stopped turning and looked down at the Siren still kneeling before him. There was a strange mix of sadness and joy in his eyes and John was hit with a sudden realization that knocked him to his knees.

He pushed the book aside and shuffled closer to Sherlock, never more certain of anything in his life as he watched the Siren’s eyes grow wider with every move he made.

His hands tangled in Sherlock’s curls and he pulled the Siren’s face to meet his own in a tender kiss.

John Watson wanted to live. He wanted to stay with this crazy, dangerous creature for the rest of his days, and he tried to pour every single one of those thoughts into the kiss. He pulled back slightly and rested his forehead against Sherlock’s, smiling softly.

“Thank you, Sherlock Holmes.”


	10. Life Force

Being the focus of a mind as brilliant and wild as that of Sherlock Holmes was something John Watson was certain he would never get used to. Sherlock watched him endlessly as he steered their little vessel through the stars. When he wasn’t tugging on ropes, or turning the ship in the right directions, Sherlock’s hands were all over him, documenting the different feelings and reactions his touch provoked.

It was strange, and wonderful, and it made John feel more alive than he had felt in years.

It took them six days to reach E6, John’s urgency to help Sherlock making him push his boat faster than necessary. Sherlock stayed in his human form, ignoring John’s pleas for him to return to his true form. John knew how uncomfortable it had to be for the Siren to stay confined to that body, but Sherlock refused, never offering an explanation.

They pulled up to the gates of E6, John handing the guards his tablet and Medical Card. They let the pair pass easily, directing them to the guest docking slots and handing them visitor bracelets. John helped secure the bracelet on Sherlock’s wrist before gathering up his Tablet and hopping off the ship.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, his body went rigid as intense waves of static energy coursed through him. He was distantly aware of someone screaming in pain, his name being called, and a burning feeling in the back of his throat.

_Sherlock!_ His vision faded to black just after a fuzzy figure stepped in front of him.

 

 

John’s scream of agony drew Sherlock’s attention from his thoughts. He raced towards his friend, stumbling as he was struck with the force of static energy that was being forced through John’s compact body.

“John!” Panic gripped him as a low, thrumming note filled the air around him, pinning him in place. He was helpless to do anything as John’s now unconscious body slouched to the side, held upright by the same note that held Sherlock’s body still.

“Hello Brother Mine.” One of the many voices that haunted Sherlock’s nightmares echoed through his mind, causing the panic he was fighting to swell. “Now, now, Sherlock, you know better than to fight. It will-”

“What have you done to him?” Mycroft blinked, looking at John as though he had completely forgotten the human was there. He flicked his tail irritably, the pale light of the second sun making it glint like emeralds. Sherlock had always envied his brother’s tail, the green a much more appealing color than the black, bruise-like mass he was born with. “Let him go!”

“Your pet is fine-”

“He’s not a pet-”

“I don’t care!” Mycroft’s voice was harsh and Sherlock couldn’t stop the violent flinch that tore through him.

“Please, just let us go. I’m not causing any harm, and I haven’t returned to your precious kingdom since you banished me. Please Mycroft, no rules have been broken-”

“You’ve used your song around a human-”

“John is immune! He shows almost no response to my song.” Mycroft’s eyes brightened dangerously at that and he moved closer to John, reaching out to touch the unconscious human.

Sherlock’s unnatural growl shocked both Sirens, the dangerous sound mingling with Mycroft’s song and disrupting the note. John’s body hit the ground with a sickening thud and Sherlock leapt to his side, cradling his head in his arms.

“You claim your song has no effect on this man-” Mycroft’s voice was filled with awe as he watched his little brother and the human.

“It didn’t. John is immune to my song-”

“Yes, but are you immune to him?” Sherlock’s head snapped up and he glared at his older brother.

“What are you talking about?” He tried to make his voice harsh, but it came out almost scared. Mycroft smirked, shifting closer to Sherlock and crouching down beside the pair, blatantly ignoring his sibling’s warning song.

“Let me tell you about your little pet.” Mycroft hovered his hand over John’s chest, the energies surrounding John starting to vibrate.

Where Sherlock was gifted with his song, his skills paled in comparison to his sibling’s. Mycroft could manipulate energies without the use of his song.

“He has a strong moral compass, came from a bad home. He had to adapt to survive, and thus stands out from the other humans. People are drawn to him, unable to resist his, charms, but he can’t bring himself to truly love. All his connections are emotionless on his part, even if his partner develops feelings, which they always do. He would rather die than hurt the people that care for him.” Mycroft’s eyes caught Sherlock’s and pinned him in place. “He is suicidal, isn’t he Sherlock?”

“Wh-What- what are you saying?” Sherlock could feel his body start to shake as his brother’s words sank in.

“Feel his energies, Sherlock. Surely you’ve felt it.” Sherlock shook his head, blinking away tears and gently cupping John’s cheek.

“You’re wrong. He told me, he wants to live. He-”

“May have believed it, at the time, may have even wanted too.” Mycroft removed his hand from it’s place above John’s heart and straightened, his eyes filled with pity he kept aimed at his younger brother. “He isn’t immune to your Song Sherlock, he just has no life force for you to manipulate.”

Sherlock’s chest seemed to cave in on itself, nearly tearing his heart in two. Mycroft was right, he saw it back on E3. When John was talking with Mike, he looked sad, but there was a hollowness to his eyes that Sherlock had wished away, not acknowledging it.

“Please, help him.” Sherlock whispered, helplessness taking over his mind.

“There is nothing to be done. He may be alright with you for a while, but you know how hard it is to be friends with creatures like us. You will hurt him, and he will leave, then the emptiness will return and he will give in.” Sherlock sobbed and buried his head against John’s chest, listening to his heart and fighting to ignore the lack of energy flowing through the man. He ignored Mycroft’s departure in favor of holding the human he cared so much about.

“Sherlock?” The raspy voice pulled Sherlock from his painful thoughts. He felt a soft hand on his cheek and loosened his grip on John when he felt the human’s body start to shift. “Hey, what happened? What’s wrong? Talk to me, Gorgeous.” John moved so he was kneeling before Sherlock, wincing slightly as his body stiffened.

“Y-You still want to die.” Sherlock felt the change in John’s body as soon as the words left his mouth. The man’s smaller frame tensed and he sighed heavily, pulling his hands away from Sherlock’s face and rubbing them roughly over his own.

Their eyes met, but Sherlock saw no light glinting back at him from John’s.

“Yes.”


	11. Leave Now

“Sherlock-”

“No.” The Siren pushed himself to his feet, hurt and rage filling his body. “What happened to you John? What stole your Life Force?” He stepped closer to the human that had captured his mind and took his face in his hands, wishing he could take the young man’s burdens. John stared blankly at him for a moment, before Sherlock watched him deliberately fill his eyes with remorse.

“Sherlock-”

“Don’t.” Sherlock stepped back, his chest tight and breathing ragged. “Don’t lie to me John, not again.”

“I didn’t lie to you-”

“Yes, you did! You said you were okay, that you wanted to live-” John laughed, a cold, empty sound that sent an unpleasant chill along Sherlock’s spine.

“Sherlock, I haven’t wanted to live since I was seventeen. You think you’re the first? The first poor, helpless soul to try to save me? Yes, you make me feel alive, but so did the war. Feeling alive and wanting to live don’t go hand in hand Gorgeous.” Sherlock watched him soften his face and posture and step closer. “I’m not going to lie, you made me feel better than I had in years. You’re dangerous, gorgeous, and for some unknown reason, you want to be with me. But that doesn’t change the fact that I have no will to live.”

“A human can rebuild their Life Force, I can help you-” John closed the gap between them and cut off Sherlock’s words with a kiss. “Let me help you, John.”

“The thought of living, of fighting through every day like I have since I was a teen, makes me so tired. I don’t want to do it anymore.” John continued to press kisses to Sherlock’s lips, even though the Siren was fighting every urge to respond. John was the only being in the universe that could shut Sherlock’s mind down with just a kiss and he knew it. “Tell you what, let’s go get that burn healed, then I will give you one week to try to talk me out of it-”

“No.” Sherlock pushed himself out of John’s arms, instantly missing the feeling of the human pressing against him. “No, you don’t get to help me if you won’t let me help you.”

“Don’t do this-”

“I won’t live without you, and I know that you will just keep me distracted for the week then I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.” Sherlock lifted his chin defiantly and tightened his hands into fists. “We save each other, or you leave now.” John reacted as though Sherlock had physically struck him, stepping back and pain filling his eyes.

“Sherlock-”

“I’m serious John. If you have no intention of letting me save you, then leave now.” John closed the distance between them and started kissing Sherlock again. The Siren could feel the weight of the emotion John was pouring into the kiss and felt tears slip from his eyes as he dropped his hands to John’s waist and kissed back.

“Please don’t make me do this Sherlock. Can’t we just pretend? One week, then I’ll go, you won’t even miss me.” Sherlock shook his head, kissing John tenderly once more, not wanting to let him go, but knowing he was going to lose him.

“If I give you one week, I’ll fall more in love with you than I already am. I wouldn’t survive losing you.” John sniffled and Sherlock tasted their tears mixing together on their lips.

“One more night then? Please, I’m not ready to let you go yet.” Sherlock shook his head and John sobbed, tucking his head against Sherlock’s neck.

“I can’t.” John nodded against Sherlock’s neck, tilting his head back and capturing Sherlock’s lips in another soft kiss before stepping away. He reached into his pocket and handed Sherlock his phone.

“I’ll call you before-” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “You don’t have to answer, but I think I’d want to hear your voice one last time.” Sherlock nodded, taking the phone and slipping it into his pocket.

John turned and climbed back into his Star Sailor, leaving Sherlock standing alone and breaking on the dock.

“Goodbye John.”

“Goodbye Sherlock.” John pushed the vessel away from the dock, slowly drifting away from Sherlock.

“I love you.” Sherlock whispered as John’s boat started to fade from his sight, taking with it the only being that ever truly cared for him.

 

“I love you.” Sherlock’s whisper was soft, barely audible over the sounds of E6, but it cut through John’s heart like a bullet. He sobbed, but didn’t turn around. He had made his choice, and same as Mikey, he wouldn’t let Sherlock be the one that found him when he gave up.

_“You’re really going to do this?”_ John’s inner voice asked, making the tears fall harder. _“That creature could make the pain stop, and it would probably hurt less than a blade or gun.”_

_“You’re the one that wants to die.”_

_“You want to stay with him though.”_

_“For now, but it won’t last and I can’t do that to him.”_ John pushed his thoughts aside and focused on sailing away from Sherlock Holmes.

He was about an hour outside of E6, plotting a course to the nearest plot of empty space when he felt the air around him shift. He felt the tips of his ears start to burn with energy and braced himself for an Energy Storm.

What struck him was no Energy Storm.

His knees hit the deck as a harsh note pierced his skull, pulling a scream from his throat and filling his body with pain.

Images of his father’s dead body, the people he couldn’t save, the fear and pity he saw in his mother’s eyes when he told her what he did, filled his mind.

He saw Sherlock, standing on the deck of E6, tears streaming down his face as he sailed away.

He screamed louder and started digging at his skull, trying to pull the sight from his brain. Something in the back corner of his mind told him to stop, that it was The Spider’s Song, but he couldn’t. He had to make it stop.

He was distantly aware of someone boarding his ship.


	12. Empty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!! This chapter talks about torture in detail so be prepared.....

It had only been an hour since John left, so when Sherlock felt the phone in his pocket start to vibrate, he scrambled to answer. Maybe John had changed his mind.

The screen was filled with the image of John, on his knees, his nails digging furrows into the sides of his skull as he screamed in excruciating pain.

“Sherlock,” a familiar, melodic voice came through the speakers and sent ice coursing through Sherlock’s veins. “John Watson, is definitely in danger.”

 

 

Pain was the first thing John felt when he came too, a burning sensation lancing through his shoulders and spine as he blinked his way to consciousness.

“Well, well, looks like the good doctor is awake.” A strange, almost melodic voice cut through the fog and made the fire behind his eyes burn brighter. “Good, it was getting so, boring.” The blurred image of a man filled his line of sight and John felt a hand grip his chin, forcing his face up to meet dark, empty eyes.

As his awareness increased, John took stock of his body, counting the wounds and trying to figure out what had happened.

His arms were trussed above his head and his toes were just barely touching the ground beneath him. The position caused his shoulder to pull painfully and he could feel his spine shifting as his body swayed.

He knew this position. He had spent many days in this exact position.

He was going to be tortured.

There should have been a flash of panic, cold terror washing over him, but instead, as he looked into the dead eyes of his captor, all he felt was emptiness. He grinned at the man before him, knowing how horrific he must look. He could feel the blood and torn skin pulling as he grinned.

“Humans are dreadfully unresponsive when they are unconscious.” The man moved his grip down to John’s throat and squeezed, cutting off his airway enough that his body started trying to fight, but his mind stayed blank. “Do you know who I am, little human?” John tried to free himself from the grip crushing his airway. “Do you know what fun I could have with your body?” The hand on his throat disappeared, swinging his body and causing his shoulder to pull painfully.

“Sorry Sweetheart, I’m not really into getting fucked by arachnids.” John winked at him, testing the cuffs binding his wrists. The man he knew to be The Spider chuckled, leaning in close to John and inhaling deeply.

“Hmm, I can see why he likes you so much, such a lovely voice. Has he heard you scream yet?” John laughed, the sound empty to even his own ears, and swayed his body gently, praying he was reading the man’s words correctly.

“Nah, but I’ve heard him wailing as I-” The Spider cut off John’s words with a harsh jab to the jaw. The doctor laughed again, rolling his jaw and wincing as he felt the wounds on his scalp tear. “What’s wrong? Jealous because I didn’t have to take what I wanted from him?”

“You never fucked him.”

“No? Keep telling yourself that.” The Spider stepped over to a table filled with glinting knives and other torture implements. John felt a morbid sense of curiosity as he watched the man run his fingers over the weapons.

He chose his weapon and turned back to John, a small, black serrated blade in his hand and an evil glint in his eye.

John remembered that look; the look of twisted glee at the thought of pulling another living being apart. He knew he should be panicking, trying to fight and bargain his way free, but he felt nothing but cold emptiness. 

 

Moriarty sliced and tore at John’s body for hours, drawing screams of agony and dead laughs from the former soldier.

“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want me to cave.”

“Oh, I’m not looking to make you cave. I’m just killing time until he gets here.” John laughed again, a hollow, broken sound that seemed to give even Moriarty pause.

“Sherlock’s not coming. Not after what I did to him.” Moriarty tilted his head to the side, stepping close to John and eyeing him curiously. “Go ahead, you might as well just kill me now. He’s not coming and I have no reason to live, so just get it over with.” Moriarty grinned and John felt searing pain as the man sunk a long blade into his side.

He could feel the tell-tale signs of his body surrendering to the pain and didn’t bother fighting the darkness that took over his mind.

His last thought before passing into unconsciousness was a wish for death.

 

 

John’s mobile went off in Sherlock’s hand as he neared The Spider’s ship. He opened the message that appeared on the screen and felt his stomach drop at the video that started playing.

John’s arms were hoisted above his head, the sides of his face caked in dried blood and torn tissues. His body was bruised and broken and he swayed uneasily. Sherlock fought down a wave of nausea when he noticed the handle of a knife sticking out of John’s side.

His eyes were empty and when he started speaking, Sherlock felt an unpleasant chill trace over his body. 

“Hey Sherlock. Moriarty wanted me to tell you that if you aren’t here before the first sun sets tonight, he will do to me what he did to you, then make me hunt you down and tear you apart, then listen to your song until what is left of my mind fades.” Sherlock fought back a sob when John’s eyes caught his through the camera. “Don’t bother coming Gorgeous, I’m not worth it. Just let him kill me, it’s easier that way-”

“Oh, isn’t that sweet?” The camera turned to reveal the grinning face of James Moriarty, John’s blood splattered on his face and shirt. “You and I both know what a man with no Life Force can do to the hearts of those who love him though, so I know you’re coming. In fact, you’re probably already here. Three hours to find us Sherlock Holmes, or the John Watson you’ve fallen for dies, and I get to play with the shell that remains.”

“The game is on.”


	13. Twisted Songs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!!!! More torture in this one....Good Luck babies....

Moriarty had turned John so he could watch the first sun setting, re-positioning his body so that while his arms were still trussed above his head, he was kneeling on the cold floor. There was a reason for the position change, of course. Moriarty had broken John’s knee and was forcing him to bend the ruined joint.

“You know, I can normally read everything about a man from his Life Force.” Moriarty was lounging in a chair across the room, running his fingers over a large console. “All I have to do is press this button.” The man pressed a large green button and John felt his body convulse in pain as the sound ripped through him. He writhed against his bonds, feeling the bones in his broken knee grind painfully. “But with you, nothing. Not even a sliver of energy within your soul.” He released John from the twisted song and came to stand before him, gripping John’s chin and forcing him to crane his neck to meet his eyes.

“Y-You’ll never have me.”

“Oh, I know that. I never had any intention of keeping you. I just needed to give Sherlock the motivation to come save you. I couldn’t control you if I wanted to.” Moriarty gripped John’s hair tightly and yanked his head back, pulling a yelp of pain from the broken man. “But I will enjoy making Sherlock pull you apart.” John laughed painfully, feeling involuntary tears slip from the corners of his eyes.

“He’s not coming.” Moriarty gripped his throat roughly, making him squirm some more.

“You have no idea the hold your empty soul has on the minds of others, do you?” Moriarty leaned down and hovered his lips just over John’s. “Your lack of emotion is, to say the least, intoxicating-”

“Let him go James.” Cold dread coupled with an unfamiliar spark tore through John’s chest at the voice that came from behind him. Moriarty looked up, still gripping John’s throat and grinned, the expression an unpleasant mix of gleeful and empty.

John bit back a scream of agony when Moriarty spun him, dragging his broken knee on the ground and making the bones crunch. He hung his head and refused to meet Sherlock’s eyes.

“I told you not to come.”

“I couldn’t let him kill you.” Sherlock had changed back into his Siren form, his long black tail twisting behind him. Moriarty gripped John’s hair and forced his head back once more, exposing his throat and placing a cold blade against the overheated skin there. “Don’t-”

“Why him? What is so different about him and me, Sherlock? We are practically the same-”

“You are nothing like John Watson. He is good, and kind, and would never hurt another person.” Moriarty laughed, digging the blade deeper into John’s skin.

“He was a soldier!”

“He is a Doctor!” John felt something spark in his chest when Sherlock’s voice wavered.

“He is nothing!” Moriarty pushed John forward, making his right shoulder snap unpleasantly and pulling a scream of pain from his raw throat. “At least, he will be, once you’re done with him.” Two men grabbed Sherlock by the elbows and dragged him into the room, the Siren not putting up any fight.

“Sherlock-” John’s words died on his tongue as Moriarty pressed the blade that had been at his throat between his teeth and against his tongue. He felt the sting of the blade and tasted blood.

“Now, now you pretty thing, don’t try to distract him. He has work to do.” Moriarty stepped away from John and moved to the control panel, pushing buttons and smirking at the Siren.

He pushed the green button and a new song filled the air, sending a chill along John’s spine. He watched in horror as Sherlock’s body went limp for several seconds before tensing. He looked at John and his eyes were empty and cold.

“Sherlock!” John struggled against his bonds, his shoulder and knee screaming in pain. “Sherlock, please listen to me!”

“He can’t hear you.” Moriarty stepped close to Sherlock, grinning coldly up at the Siren. “You like the song? I spent weeks perfecting it. Exactly tuned to manipulate the deepest points of his Life Force. His mind is gone, and he will do whatever I want him to.” John felt his blood run cold when Moriarty pressed his lips to Sherlock’s and kissed him. The Siren didn’t respond, but also didn’t fight.

“So, this is what you want? The shell of his brilliance? You want to have him nearly dead and unresponsive, just so that he won’t be with me?” Moriarty spun to face John, fury on his face. “What’s wrong? Jealous that I don’t need some twisted song to get Sherlock’s love?” The Spider growled and stepped closer to John, trembling with rage. “How much does it piss you off? Knowing that I’ve made him writhe, and that he’s let me, willingly?”

“Oh Pet?” Moriarty’s voice turned even more melodic than before and Sherlock instantly responded, stepping closer and draping himself over Moriarty’s shoulders. “Kill the good doctor. He’s boring me.” Sherlock raised his eyes to meet John’s, and the ex-soldier saw a glimmer of awareness in the Siren’s pale eyes.

Sherlock grabbed the knife from Moriarty’s hand and stepped around him, the deadness in his eyes sending a spark of fear throughout John.

He hesitated as he approached John, glancing between the broken man and the blade.

“Sherlock, please, listen to me. Don’t do this-”

“Why are you hesitating Pet? Kill him.”

“Sherlock please-”

“I gave you a command, now complete it!”

“Please, Sherlock don’t. Y-You love me, remember?” Sherlock’s eyes hardened and he stepped closer to John, gripping his hair and placing the tip of the blade under his chin.

“Close your eyes John.” Sherlock’s voice was empty, but John was certain he saw a flash of pain in his eyes. He shook his head, holding Sherlock’s gaze and breathing deeply.

“No.”

“Please John. Don’t make me watch you die.” A tear fell from Sherlock’s eye and John swallowed thickly. “Please, I can’t stop this.”

“I know Love, I know. It’s okay. Take care of yourself Gorgeous.” John could feel the blade shaking against his throat and he laughed, but it caught in his throat and sounded more like a sob than a laugh. “I never said before, but you know I love you too, right?” Sherlock’s eyes widened and the blade stilled against his throat.

“J-John-”

“It’s true you know, I’m not just saying it. I really do love you.”

“What did I say? Kill him now!” Moriarty shouted stepping closer to Sherlock.

John watched as Sherlock’s eyes hardened and braced himself for death.

Sherlock gripped the blade tighter and spun, gracefully sinking the blade under Moriarty’s chin and into his skull.

John screamed as he watched another blade pierce Sherlock's chest and exit his back, his face going slack and his body collapsing with Moriarty's. 

Fire sparked in John's chest as he screamed, his chest seeming to cave in as he burned. 


	14. Waking Up

John woke to the blinding white lights of the E6 Med Bay.

“Hey, there Gorgeous.” He turned to see Mikey standing by his bedside, the concern on his face clear. “Thought we were going to lose you there for a bit. How’re you feeling?” John tried to push himself into a sitting position, but his shoulder and hands screamed and he gasped, falling back onto the mattress. “No, no stay down Kiddo. You have some pretty heavy-duty nerve damage in your hands as well as several broken bones and severe blood loss.” John nodded trying to remember what happened after Sherlock-

Panic gripped his chest and he tried to sit up again, sobbing in agony and fear when Mikey held him down.

“John stop, you’re going to hurt yourself-”

“Where’s Sherlock? Where is he Mikey? He- he was stabbed, he needs help-”

“John-”

“Mikey, where is he? I-I need- it’s my-”

“John, you need to calm down.” Mikey’s voice was soft and he was reaching above John’s head, pressing a button and flooding John’s system with a sedative. John could feel his joints becoming heavy and his breathing start to slow. “I’m sorry John, you can’t abuse your body like this, you haven’t finished treatments-”

“Sher- I-I need- I-It’s my f-fault-”

“Get some sleep John, I’ll explain everything when you wake up.” John’s mind was dragged back into darkness, but the panic remained, tainting his thoughts and poisoning his dreams.

 

“Where’s Sherlock?” John asked as soon as he woke the next day. He fought the panic rising in his chest again, he had to know what happened to the Siren. Mikey sighed and sat heavily in the chair next to John.

“He was here, critical condition. Sword was run through his chest and punctured his lung. He was awake, but non-responsive when he arrived. What the hell happened to him John? I’ve never seen psychological symptoms like that before.”

“T-The Spider, he had manipulated sonic tech to create a mimic of a Siren Song to supress his mind.” John shuddered at the memory of seeing Moriarty kissing Sherlock and making him drape himself over his shoulders. “Where is he Mikey? I-Is he-”

“The Siren that brought you both here, Mycroft Holmes, took him back to their planet once he was stable.” Mikey cupped John’s cheek, the sadness in his eyes causing tears to start to fall from John’s own. “John, his injuries- I-I can’t imagine he survived the trip.” Pain lanced through John’s chest at his friend’s words and he sobbed.

Mike pulled him into his arms and John let himself be held, his tears staining the shirt of his friend. He didn’t hear Mikey’s phone ring, and he didn’t feel the other man push the button to lull him back into darkness.

 

Once John had passed out in his arms, Mike gently laid him back onto the mattress and pulled his phone out, leaving the room quietly and answering the call.

“Hello Mr. Stamford.”

“Call me Mike, I’m assuming this is Mycroft?”

“You would be correct. How is John Watson?”

“He’ll live, I’m not going to promise a full recovery though, there was extensive nerve damage to his hands-”

“Yes, I’m sure he will be fine. What of the tests I requested you run? What were the results?”

“Full-functioning, as I said it would be.”

“Fascinating. And you’re certain that they had no tests or procedures done when they were there before?”

“I sure. According to the logs, they showed up, were here for about an hour, then John left alone. Sherlock didn’t follow him for a few hours after. What’s going on Mr. Holmes?”

“Nothing that concerns you Mr. Stamford. Thank you for your help. You can assure Mr. Watson that his Med Bills are paid for and will be covered until he is no longer in need of medical assistance.”

“Wait, how is Sherlock? Did he survive the trip?” There was a moment of hesitation and Mike felt his chest tighten.

“My little brother died just outside the gates of the Palace.” Rage flooded through Mike and he felt his hands start to shake.

“You killed him.”

“I did no such thing-”

“I fucking told you and your bloody physicians that he wouldn’t survive. I told you he wasn’t strong enough. Now he’s dead, and I’m going to lose John all over again because you wouldn’t fucking listen!” He didn’t give the Siren the chance to respond before he was speaking again. “John Watson’s blood is on your hands.” He growled before he hung up, dropping the phone and sliding down to the floor.

He grieved for Sherlock, and for John.

 

 

“Why would you do that?” The voice of Greg Lestrade pulled Mycroft’s attention from the phone before him. “Why tell Mikey that Sherlock is dead?”

“Gregory-”

“No! Sherlock isn’t dead! He’s just unconscious, he could wake up any day now-” Mycroft pushed himself to his feet, slamming his hand down on the desk and sending his Head of Security a glare that silenced his protests.

“My brother’s soul was compressed into nothingness by Moriarty’s song. His lungs were destroyed when the blade pierced his chest, and his brain was deprived of oxygen for far too long. Sherlock’s body my still live, but his mind is gone.” A crushing weight settled on his heart for the first time since his men had found Sherlock and John, bloody on the floor of The Spider’s ship. “Sherlock is dead.” He whispered, feeling a sob catch in his throat.

Greg instantly reacted, closing the door behind himself and stepping around Mycroft’s desk, pulling him close. They had been dating secretly for about a year, and Mycroft had never been happier for the man’s strength.

“Sherlock is dead.”

 

_“Sherlock!”_

_“I told you not to come.”_

_“He is a doctor!”_

_“Kill the good doctor, he’s boring me.”_

_No, please. I can’t kill John._

_“You know I love you too, right?”_

_John!_

_“Kill him now!”_

_No!_

Pale eyes opened to blinding white lights and machines wailed.

“John.”


	15. Living

“John, please, don’t do this again.” John sighed, feeling a sense of familiarity wash over him. Less than a year ago, they had been having this exact conversation. He fought with the ropes for a few more minutes, his hands shaking violently.

He still hadn’t regained full use of his hands after what happened on Moriarty’s ship. When Sherlock had been stabbed, John panicked and ripped his hands from their bonds, dislocating several bones and ripping flesh and muscles from the bone.

He stepped off the boat and took Mikey’s face in his hands, trying to calm his distressed friend.

“Mikey, I’m sorry. I just- I can’t do this anymore.”

“What can I do? Please, I don’t want to have to watch you sail away again.” Mikey had started crying and John leaned down and pressed gentle kisses to the shorter man’s lips. “Please don’t go John.”

“I’m sorry Mikey.”

“If it were Sherlock asking you would stay.” John’s chest tightened painfully, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny the words.

“That doesn’t matter-”

“Yes, it does! You should go there and scream at Mycroft. He fucking killed Sherlock-”

“Mikey, don’t do this again. Moriarty killed Sherlock. Nothing you could have done would have saved him.” He pulled his friend into his arms and held him close, fighting back tears at the memory of Sherlock. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you-”

“When you reach E2, I know.” John’s heart broke for his friend, but he wasn’t going to change his mind. There was no way he would survive this trip, not with his hands in the shape they were. Mikey knew it, he knew that even if John wasn’t leaving to find his death, he wouldn’t make it through another energy storm. “What if I come with you? I-I’ll- I’ll do the busy work on the ship. You won’t even know I’m there.”

“Mikey-”

“Please John, I can’t lose you again.” John chewed his bottom lip and stepped away from his friend, fighting tears at the pain in Mikey’s eyes.

“Goodbye Mikey.” He whispered, turning away and starting to loosen the ropes that held his ship in place.

“Y-You?” He heard Mikey’s voice, but didn’t turn, trying desperately to ignore his friend. “H-How- I-I don’t-” John heard a scuffle and a soft grunt, but continued fighting with the ropes.

He couldn’t get his hands to work and felt frustration building in his chest. One of his hands slipped and caught of a sharp corner, tearing the skin open. It should have hurt worse, but the nerve damage numbed the pain.

“Fuck!” He shouted, gripping the injured hand tight to his chest and letting the tears fall. He was in pain, not just physical pain. He had lost the only person that gave him a reason to live, and now he couldn’t even ready his own ship to sail away.

“Please stop him.” Mikey’s voice sounded broken and John felt a flare of anger. No deity his friend could pray to could change his mind.

“Stop it Mikey!” John snapped, spinning around to yell at the other man, his torn hand forgotten.

His heart stopped and shattered when he turned.

Standing beside Mikey was a tall, thin man, almost inhumanly beautiful, with dark curls and too-pale skin.

John stumbled backwards on the boat, tripping over one of the crates and falling to the floor.

“John-”

“No! No, don’t do this. Please don’t, not now. I just got rid of you!” John felt panic in his chest at the image before him. He had been seeing Sherlock everywhere since he found out the Siren had died. The voice in his head talking to him and making him see his dead friend’s ghost.

He backed against the railing and hid his face as the ghost walked closer to him. He sobbed uncontrollably, trying to remind himself that it wasn’t real, that Sherlock was dead.

“John-”

“Please stop. Y-You’re dead, you’re not real.” He felt a cool hand on his cheek and looked up to see the ghost of his friend kneeling before him, his pale eyes searching John’s face. “I-I’m so sorry Sherlock.” He whispered, deciding to lose himself in his insanity.

“Why are you sorry? You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I killed you. If I hadn’t- hadn’t wanted to try and fix you-” A sob caught in his throat and he reached for the ghost, knowing he must look insane, trying to touch something that wasn’t there. “Gods, I miss you. I need you here.”

“I am here John.”

“No, you’re not. You’re dead and it’s my fault-” Sherlock shook his head, tears falling from those perfect eyes as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against John’s and sniffling.

“No, no John, it’s not. I’m right here. I’m not dead John.” Sherlock tilted his head and pressed a soft kiss to John’s lips. John gasped as something in his chest sparked, just this side of painful. “See? Think John. Use that beautifully dull brain of yours. How can I touch you if I’m dead?” The spark in John’s chest flared again, making his head swim and breathing become irregular.

“I-It’s not- I-I don’t-”

“I’m right here Love, and most decidedly not dead.” Sherlock kissed him again, and John felt the glass wall he had erected between his mind and the memory of Sherlock shatter.

He reached for Sherlock, disbelief flooding his veins. His chest was burning now, the fire spreading over his body as he touched Sherlock’s skin.

“H-How- I-I thought-” Sherlock smiled fondly and closed his eyes, letting John touch him. Anger flared through John’s body and he slapped Sherlock, sending the Siren sprawling against the deck of his ship. “You fucking shit!” He snapped, glaring at Sherlock as a stunned expression took over his features.

“J-John-”

“You fucking left me! You let me believe you were dead for months!” Sherlock shuffled forward, keeping his distance. “Why didn’t you call? One word, that’s all I needed Sherlock. One, fucking word.” John shifted so he was kneeling before Sherlock, reaching out a gentle hand and caressing his face, a sob catching in his throat at the pain and regret he saw in the other man’s eyes. “I’m so sorry Sherlock.” He whispered, pulling his hand away and clutching at his chest as the fire sparked and he was wracked with painful sobs.

“Gods John, no.” Sherlock shifted, coming closer and kneeling in front of John. The Siren took John’s face in his hands and pressed soft kisses to his face and lips. “You have nothing to apologize for. I went to Moriarty, I gave myself over to him. Neither of us knew he had that blade, he would have killed me anyways. My brother is an idiot, he told you that I had died and then told me the same about you. It was your friend Geoffrey that finally told me the truth.” Sherlock sobbed and John felt his heart break. “Then Michael called and told me that you were- you were going to kill yourself again and I-” John pulled him close and kissed him, crawling onto the Siren’s lap and holding him close. “I-I couldn’t live with myself if- if you-” John shook his head and kissed Sherlock deeply, his chest burning as painfully as it did when Sherlock was stabbed.

“I missed you so much.” He whispered against Sherlock’s lips between kisses.

“I missed you too John. I’m so sorry.” John took Sherlock’s face in his hands and grinned down at him.

“You’re back, that’s all that matters. And I am never letting you out of my sight again.” Sherlock laughed and leaned up, catching John’s lips in another kiss.

“Sounds good to me.” John turned back to where Mike had been standing, only to find his friend gone and a white folder in his place. He reached back and grabbed the paper, opening the folder and reading over the Medical Data written inside. “What is it?”

“I-It’s data on a Soul Scan. I-I don’t understand, it has my name under the patient info.”

“What’s wrong?” John looked at Sherlock, his mind reeling. A small flutter of paper in the top corner of the folder caught his eye and he pulled the sheet out, revealing a hand-written note.

_Dear John and Sherlock;_

_After Mycroft dropped John off here and took Sherlock home, he asked me to run a soul scan on John, focusing on his Life Force. He wouldn’t explain why, but said it was urgent. I completed the scan and sent him the results. I didn’t understand at first, so I looked into it. Your life force was too young for your soul, almost as if it had been reborn. That’s when I knew._

_I knew why I loved you, I knew why Sherlock and Greg and everyone you’ve ever known has cared for you so bloody much. I knew why you wanted to die, and I knew why you needed things to be so dangerous. I called Sherlock because I knew you were going to leave again and I couldn’t let that happen._

_I still love you John, probably always will, but you need Sherlock, and he needs you. You’re Life Force is back, full power and ready to love._

_I’m sure I don’t need to say this, but take care of yourself Babe. You deserve to be happy._

_Love:_

_Mikey_

 

John laughed, shaking his head and re-reading the results in the folder.

“John, I don’t understand. Why are you so happy? What did the note say?” John kissed Sherlock enthusiastically, chuckling against the Siren’s lips. He rested his forehead against Sherlock’s and grinned, the burning in his chest morphing into a pleasant warmth that spread over his bones.

“I’m alive.” He whispered, pulling Sherlock close and kissing his hair, tears of happiness slipping from his eyes. “I’m alive, Sherlock.” He felt the moment Sherlock understood, felt the Siren’s hands grip his hips tighter, the sob wrack his thin frame. He saw the joy in his lover’s eyes when he looked up at John. “Let’s go live, eh Gorgeous?”

He helped Sherlock ready the ship, his grin never fading as they pushed off, sailing from E3 together.

The Wayfinder and his Siren.


	16. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end....officially...SMUT WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER!!!!! Hope you liked it!!!!

John tightened the mainsail rope, tethering the ship to an energy pocket so they could rest for the night. He looked out off the edge, watching Sherlock as he swam amongst the stars.

The Siren was stunning, twisting and moving gracefully through the waves of energy surrounding him. He grinned when the creature stopped, his tail hidden behind a cluster of stars, giving him the appearance that he was one with the sky.

Sherlock caught his eyes and grinned, a danger in his smile that sent a shock of arousal through John’s body. Sherlock drifted closer resting his arms on the edge of the boat and leaning close to John, brushing his nose along John’s neck.

“Do you trust me?” John felt his heart tighten at the thought that Sherlock still felt that he needed to ask. He gasped as the Siren bit down on his pulse point gently, sucking on the skin between his teeth.

“Y-Yes.” John whispered, nearly whimpering as Sherlock pulled away. The Siren’s eye glinted, danger with the slightest hint of nervousness as he swam onto the boat. He sat on the floor and pulled John onto his lap, cupping his cheek and bringing him in for a soft kiss.

John sighed into the kiss as Sherlock ran his fingers along his thighs and sides. He pressed closer and moved his own hands over the Siren’s exposed chest. He loved it when Sherlock stayed in this form, human clothing irritated his skin and scales so he never wore a shirt.

Suddenly, a low, thrumming note pulsed through the air and John broke the kiss with a gasp. His body was filled with an overwhelming sense of pleasure that moved and vibrated with the pulse of the note.

“Sher-Sherlock-” His mind was spinning and he could feel an intense need gripping his chest as the note continued to pulse through him.

Since getting his Life Force back, he and Sherlock had spent many days testing his limits against Sherlock’s song, and they discovered that even though Sherlock could manipulate him now, it took a lot of effort on the Siren’s part to get him to do anything he didn’t truly want to do.

“I’ve got you John.” Sherlock’s voice wavered with the Song that played with his Life Force, and John dropped his head against the Siren’s pale shoulder, whimpering as the shocks of pleasure coursed through him.

He was distantly aware of Sherlock tugging at his shirt, and tried to help, tried to convince his limbs to co-operate. He couldn’t seem to summon the strength to make them move and whined in frustration, feeling Sherlock laugh softly against his chest, where the Siren was pressing kisses and sucking gently.

“Hush, My Love. I’ve got you.” John felt himself being lowered to the floor of the deck and tried to cling to Sherlock, a faint hint of panicked confusion cutting through the pleasure and arousal. “I’m here John, trust me.” He nodded weakly and let himself be lowered, missing the contact to Sherlock’s body.

He gasped when what felt like a dozen fingers started caressing his body, seeming to touch every single one of his erogenous zones at once with a crackling electricity. His back arched and his eyes flew open as he writhed against the onslaught of feelings.

He noticed streams of energy, pulsing and shifting with the Song, swirling around himself and Sherlock. He clawed uselessly at the deck, trying to ground himself, to make himself more consciously aware of what was happening, but found his efforts pointless. He felt a steady, heavy pressure on his chest and caught Sherlock’s eyes, any panic in his body instantly dissipating when he saw the love and arousal in the Siren’s face.

He moaned when Sherlock leaned down and kissed him, his senses heightened by the Song.

He whimpered when he felt a cold, slick finger pressing into him. He hadn’t been aware of Sherlock removing his trousers and pants, much less where he had gotten lubricant, but another finger pressing into him silenced those thoughts.

Sherlock had explained Siren biology a few nights prior, so John understood the logic of what was supposed to happen, but still found himself drifting in awe at feeling Sherlock move between his legs. He felt a cool hand cup his cheek and looked at the Siren, barely aware enough to read the hope and concern in his eyes.

“John.” Sherlock whispered, sounding as breathless and wrecked as John felt. “Talk to me John. Please say something.” John could hear how ragged his breathing had become and had no doubt he looked completely disheveled. He managed to make one of his arms move, wrapping his hand around the back of Sherlock’s neck and pulling him close, lips just barely brushing the Siren’s.

“Please Sherlock- p-please, I-I need-” His words were cut short when Sherlock slowly pressed into him. John’s jaw dropped open in a silent scream and his head dropped to the deck as he was filled. The song swelled, lighting his body up with another swell of crackling energy. They both groaned as Sherlock became fully seated within John’s body, Sherlock stilling his hips to give the human a moment to adjust before moving again.

John whimpered when Sherlock started moving, the song still making his Life Force sing and enhancing every sensation. He sobbed at the overwhelming electricity that lanced along his spine when Sherlock found his prostate.

A strangled gasp was pulled from his throat as Sherlock slid his arms under his back and lifted him off the floor, holding him against his chest and sucking light marks onto his neck as he gently thrust up into John’s body.

The change in position trapped John’s own erection between their stomachs, suddenly drawing his attention to how hard he really was. He cried out when Sherlock’s still-cool hand slipped between them and gripped him tightly. He could feel himself trembling as he neared his release, and dropped his head to Sherlock’s shoulder, moaning loudly as the Siren stimulated his prostate with every thrust.

Sherlock’s Song pierced his Life Force one last time, the shock of pleasure sending his release crashing over him. He wasn’t sure, lost in the intense pleasure that wracked his frame, but a part of him told him the keening sound had come from his throat as he dropped his head back and spilled between them.

Sherlock kept moving inside him, growling possessive words in his ear until he too came, spilling deep within John’s body. The human couldn’t fight a chill when he felt Sherlock’s seed empty within him. It wasn’t warm like a human’s, but cold. He almost questioned it, but a voice in the back of his mind reminded him that Siren’s were cold-blooded. Instead, he clung to Sherlock’s shoulders, willing his body to stop shaking and his mind to return.

Soon enough, both creatures had calmed enough for John to pull himself off Sherlock’s lap and clean them both up. He watched with a curious awe as Sherlock re-arranged himself under his scales, his now-soft length disappearing in his tail.

“You’ll have to let me investigate that one day.” He mumbled as he wiped his mess from Sherlock’s chest and stomach. The Siren laughed, touching his jaw and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“You can ‘investigate’ as often as you like _Amica Mea_.” Sherlock whispered, smiling softly at the confusion that crossed John’s face. “It means My Love in Old Latin.”

“No, it doesn’t, my grandfather taught me Latin when I was a boy-”

“It does in the ancient dialect.” John blinked for a moment before laughing.

“Of course, I should have known that you of all people would know a language that has been dead for centuries.” Sherlock laughed with him, gripping his sides and hauling him back onto his lap, earning a gasp from the human.

John leaned down and kissed Sherlock tenderly, a slow slide of lips that spoke of the love coursing through his veins. He traced the shape of the scar on the Siren’s chest, where Moriarty’s blade had pierced his body and almost took him from John. Sherlock in turn ran his hands over John’s body, tracing the scars the torture had left on his skin. He felt the Siren start to shake beneath him and he moved his hands, which had still not fully healed from the damage they sustained, and ran his fingers through the Siren’s curls, gripping as much as he could. Sherlock looked up at him and John saw the pain and fear in the creature’s eyes and pressed a soothing kiss to his lover’s lips.

“I’m right here Love, we’re both here and both alive.” He whispered between kisses, feeling Sherlock’s body stop shaking and the Siren’s touch become more sure and steady. He pulled back and rested his head against Sherlock’s. “I love you.” He whispered, unable to contain a grin at the words as they left his lips.

For years, he had faked emotions, living empty and cold. Then a strange Siren saved his life and brought back a part of him he never thought he would ever get back. He truly loved the Siren in his arms, and for the first time since he was seventeen, he felt the burning sensation of love returned coursing through his veins as Sherlock grinned back at him.

“I love you too.”

 


End file.
